Give Me Wings To Fly
by IAmKayDubs
Summary: The story starts as you may expect, with two people who love each other and who will overcome any obstacle to show their love. But a blissful, kind love story is hard to keep, and these two find that out much too early. It all comes down to one promise. "We will meet again as angels." (T for character death)


*Note*

In this story, the names for their countries are used, but for the sake of the story, I have made it so these countries can in fact die (a bit like HetaOni, but less bloody!)

Just wanted to state that! Enjoy the story!

* * *

It had all started the way you remember. The so called cowardly North Italy was found by the brave and powerful Germany.

It also progressed quite like you know it to, with Italy clinging to Germany like his life depended on it (maybe it truly did), and Germany constantly pushing Italy to work harder.

But the story after the years of their friendship is much more complex, and perhaps a bit more tragic.

It began with a horror story of a date, a date that ended with Germany fleeing from the building in a cold panic. Eventually, Italy had recovered from the shock and sprinted off towards where Germany had headed. If Germany had seen how fast the boy had run, he would have questioned why he struggled with his assigned laps.

Italy had found Germany under a tree, his hands gripping at his hair. He was berating himself for being so stupid, for running away from Italy.

Italy had placed a hand on Germany's shoulder, trying to mumble out apologies for ruining their date. Germany had shook his head, swearing that no, it wasn't Italy's fault. It was solely his.

Soon after this near disastrous event, Germany had pulled Italy aside one day and told him that he would like another shot at a date. After seeing the horrified looks from the Catholic restaurant goers, Italy was very hesitant, but he figured if he cared for someone enough, it wouldn't really matter what they thought. He didn't think God would judge him for loving another man, would he? He decided that no, he wouldn't.

So they had gone on the date, and it had been great. Italy was just as carefree as usual, cracking constant jokes, and even getting Germany to laugh joyously at some of them.

That had been the start of a string of blissful dates. After the fourth, they became an official couple, by way of a stuttered out confession by Germany that stated that he wanted to protect Italy, and that he wanted to stand by his side for as long as he could.

Weeks and months turned into years, and the two got married. It was a smaller ceremony, composed of just their closest friends and relatives. But they wouldn't have changed anything about it.

And that's where they are now. Happily married, and currently wrapped in each other's arms. Italy is fast asleep, perfectly content with being ensnared in the embrace.

Eventually, Germany fell asleep as well. He couldn't stay asleep for long, however, because it would be all to fair for everything to remain so blissful.

He woke up near three A.M. with a burning sensation in his chest. He rolled on to his back, releasing the sleeping Italy, and placed a hand on his heart. He felt as if an iron fist was squeezing his heart relentlessly. His other hand came to rest on his forehead, where a cold sweat was breaking out. His body shivered along with it.

Italy mumbled something as he began to come to. He sat up on his elbows and looked at Germany with concern.

"Germany? Are you okay? You look sick."

Germany had a horrible feeling of what his symptoms meant, so he nodded.

"I am sick, very sick. Worse than sick, actually. We need to get to a hospital."

Italy didn't understand what he meant at he time, but he nodded quickly and dashed to the door, grabbing his car keys and returning to the bedroom hastily in order to help Germany to the car.

They arrived at the hospital in only about ten minutes, luckily, and Germany was admitted in the ER.

It turned out that Germany's sneaking suspicions about his symptoms had been spot on.

It was a heart attack.

Soon after he was admitted, the worst of the symptoms had hit, Germany just thanked every power that Italy did not have to witness it, for he knew Italy would have been brought to tears by the sight.

Though it was late into the night, Prussia and France showed up when they heard the panicked call from Italy.

The two men sat on either side of the worried Italy, as Italy gripped both of their wrists firmly, tears rolling down his cheeks, not able to fully contain his fear. France soothed Italy, making promises he knew he may not be able to keep about Germany recovering just fine, and getting out within a day. Prussia, on the other hand was suffering silently on his own, with Germany being his brother and all, so he just let Italy grip as hard as he needed to, while his own nails dug into his curled up palm.

...

It wasn't until morning that the three got any news. The doctors came out with a mix of news.

"Well, is recovering well from last night, however we have determined that he has a heart condition. The heart attack he received last night will not be the last."

Italy looked at the doctor with wide eyes. "What's going to happen, then? Will he be okay besides that? Will he... Will he live?"

The doctor sighed. "We can't be so sure. He has excellent physical health and his heart is strong, but it is expected that he will have some very severe heart attacks. It's all going to depend on if his body can take it.

"May we visit?" Prussia spoke up for the first time.

The doctor nodded solemnly and led them to where Germany was staying. He was only half awake when the three entered, but he smiled at the sight of them.

Italy raced to the bedside first. "Oh, I'm so glad you're okay! I was so scared Germany."

"I'm sorry, Italy... I'm okay now, so you shouldn't worry."

"West, you gave us quite a scare." Prussia tried to avoid a heavy and tearful conversation by keeping his tone light.

"I know, brother, I apologize."

France stayed silent, for fear of saying something stupid and inappropriate. Even he knew when it was best to shut up.

...

So it was as the doctor said, it was all up to Germany's strength, and if it could withstand multiple heart attacks.

And it did.

For two more months, that is.

On a chilly night that August, he had a severe attack. This time, Italy did witness it, and he was all on his own, besides the doctor monitoring. He doctor had told him that an attack like this couldn't be controlled. It came down to strength once again.

Italy held on to Germany's hand, gripping it as if he could give some of his health to his husband.

Eventually Germany went silent. The heart monitor by the bedside fell to a dangerously low level, and the doctor hung his head.

"I'm sorry, sir... I would take some time to say goodbye..."

And the doctor left. There was no more he could do.

Italy stood up and clutched Germany's hand even harder. His hands trembled and tears were beginning to pour from his eyes. "Germany, Germany, can you hear me? Please...?! Can't you?"

Italy thought he saw a tiny nod. He wasn't sure, but he was desperate so he took it as a yes.

"Germany, please know I love you... I know I sound like a big stupid sap and you would probably shake your head and tell me to not be so cheesy and clichéd, but I can't help it right now." As usual when Italy was upset, his words were spoken with haste. "The doctor says I need to say goodbye, and I never wanted to have to do that... I thought we would last for a long, long time together. I thought we could be one of those nice old couples, together until the end, you know?" Italy kept on despite the fact that he was becoming hysterical. "Germany, I just need to you to know that I love you, and that I will miss you so much... So so much, Germany."

A low grumble of a voice rose from Germany's throat.

"I love you too, Italy. I'll see you again one day, I promise. We'll meet as angels, okay?"

Italy couldn't contain himself anymore. "Okay, Germany... As angels, I promise."

Germany didn't speak any more after that, so Italy just held his hand and sent silent prayers to God, begging him to take care of Germany.

After three more minutes, Italy heard a low buzzing.

The heart monitor displayed a flat line.

Italy had left soon after that, the image of Germany's body being stuffed in a black bag ever present in his mind.

He drove straight to Spain's house, where he knew Romano would be. He had knocked on the door and fell directly into Romano's arms as he opened it. Romano was beyond terrified, he had seen his brother cry before, but never like this.

As Spain helped him move Italy to the couch, Romano picked up on what happened. Through Italy's tearful words, he came to understand that Germany was dead.

Romano held his brother tightly as he cried, feeling some sort of empathy for him, because he knew that if Spain died, he would be even worse off than his brother.

Spain had stood nearby, pacing near the couch, but occasionally stroking Romano's shoulder or his hair whenever he saw Romano's face twisted with hurt. He could tell that Italy's pain was causing pain for Romano.

Italy had stopped sobbing eventually, and had crawled into bed without a word. He had remained in that bed for almost three days, until he knew he needed to help prepare a funeral.

Said funeral was held a week after the death. Italy gave a long speech, his usual carefree attitude abandoned in order to speak the praises of the man who made him so very happy.

Italy still moped around for a month or two after the funeral. He functioned normally enough, eating well and sleeping decently, but he no longer had any passion.

However he slowly began to become himself again after around six months after the funeral. He began painting again, and while his paintings were no longer depictions of his happy life with Germany, it was still something to see him remotely happy again.

...

From then on, things were mostly normal. Italy was able to progress normally in life, excluding a few sleepless, tearful nights in which he stared at Germany's side of the bed longingly.

That is, until one night in October. October 7th, to be exact. It was only a few days after Germany's birthday, which had been one of those sleepless nights.

Italy curled up in a ball on his bed, his eyes fluttering shut.

When he awoke, he was in a vast field.

He blinked, glancing around the field with a dazed look._ 'Where am I...?'_

He stood up on shaky legs._ 'This must be a dream... Yeah...'_

Italy looked around once he was up, his vision fuzzy. In front of him, about twenty feet away, there was the entrance to a forest, with thick trees making up the surrounding area. On the other sides of him, the field continued on endlessly.

Italy was beginning to feel frightened. He was so very alone in an endless place, and most people knew that being alone was his greatest fear.

He wrapped his arms around his torso and held them close. He wanted to wake up... This place was beautiful, but it seemed so empty...

That is, until he heard a voice.

It was a voice he had not heard in years. Not since he was a child. The voice said his name, questioning in his tone.

"Holy Rome...?!" Italy asked, shocked.

And said person emerged from the trees. "Welcome, Italy... I haven't seen you in so long..."

Italy sank to his knees. He stared in shock at the form of his childhood love. "What are you doing here...?"

"I'm just here with a... Mutual friend of ours."

Italy was too overcome by the surprise of seeing Holy Rome, he didn't bother asking more about his reasons for being here. He couldn't even bring himself to question why he was seeing the form of a dead man.

"How have you been? I... I've missed seeing you around."

Holy Rome gave a sad smile. "I've been okay..."

Italy nodded. "Where are we right now, Holy Rome?"

"It's a bit complicated to explain, Italy..."

"I see..."

"I'm sorry I never came home... I never meant to leave you alone like I did... but, um... circumstances made it difficult."

"I understand, Holy Rome..." Italy gave a soft smile. "I'm not angry."

Before they could say anymore, a figure appeared next to Holy Rome. A figure that made Italy's eyes go wide and his mouth go dry.

"Germany!" Italy leaped up and threw his arms around his husband's waist. Germany held on just as tightly, having missed the contact with his love.

Italy pulled back from the hug and his expression faltered with curiosity.

"Germany? What are those... Wings for?"

"We made a promise, didn't we?" Germany's voice was gentle, but it held a saddened undertone, for he knew the truth.

"We would meet as... Angels..." Italy murmured. He paused, trying to understand. "I see... I'm ready, Germany."

Germany gave a soft smile, whispered a thank you to Holy Rome, and took Italy's hand.

The two walked into the forest together.

...

On the morning of October 8th, Italy was found to have died in his sleep.

...

* * *

A/N: Well, here we go with the tragedy again. It's only the second real tragedy story I've written, so it may be a little shaky, but I think it turned out okay!

I didn't even want to upload this until I came up with something fluffy and sweet for Gerita, butsince it turned out better than expected (and I finished it faster than expected) I decided to upload it now!

I don't have much else to say about these two, so I won't ramble anymore!

Rate and review if you enjoyed, I hope you did! :)

Thanks!

-KayDubs


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